


The Boy Who Played With Vampires

by TheBlackRoom



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: And Carol would kick his ass, But he was too damn cute, Creature!Rick, Cute Daryl Dixon, Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes Feels, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Good Sibling Merle Dixon, Grumpy Rick Grimes, Inspired by The Walking Dead, Kid Daryl Dixon, M/M, Negan - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Protective Carol Peletier, Rick can fly, Rick wanted to kill Daryl, Rickyl Writers' Group, Slow Burn Daryl Dixon/Rick Grimes, Sweet Daryl Dixon, Vampire Rick Grimes, Vampire!Negan, Vampires, rick grimes - Freeform, vampire!Carol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-09-27 16:51:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10034729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlackRoom/pseuds/TheBlackRoom
Summary: Daryl leapt back while his father sat, frozen in fear. The other man’s eyes looked as though he’d popped out his real ones and replaced them with shiny onyx black marbles, and worse, when he smiled like a spider who’d caught a fly in its web, he exposed long, vicious fangs.“Pa!” Daryl screamed before the creature on the ground shot up and wrapped its claw like fingers around Will Dixon’s head and latched on to his neck. The child could not move as he watched the creature slam his father between giant tree trunks until he was scaling the height of a towering oak, dragging the large body of Will Dixon with him as though the old man weighted nothing at all and they disappeared somewhere up into the canapé.Daryl fell hard on his back, tripping over a root and scurrying under the protection of several fallen trees that overlapped, creating a fortress for him to hide in.The silence that followed was deafening and eery, only the desperate sharp breaths of the small child could be heard by the keen ears of predators.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much, JayJ456, Marooncamaro, Katytheinspiredworkoholic and Benny Hatter for proof reading and Betaing my work <3

 

 

  
Nestled deep in the hallows of the Great Smokey Mountains was the sleepy town of Paxton; it resided beneath a haze of wispy fog and abandoned coal mines. The town was a small thicket of eroding farm houses and window front businesses, most of which stood vacant as reminders of the poverty and grief that now haunted the once charming hub that was set ablaze by a mine explosion fifty years ago.

Daryl Dixon was only five years old and his older brother Merle would tell him that the gaping mounds of split earth emanating pillars of smoke and ash were gateways to hell. But Daryl never bought into it. After all, the smoldering fires below were one of the few things that the remaining seventy-two residents in Paxton talked about. The only thing he couldn’t figure out was why anyone stayed instead of following the other three thousand people who evacuated. 

The school was dilapidated and all of its materials were out dated. The once beautiful brick building was in ruins, all the rooms empty aside from the one where two teachers shared the task of teaching their twenty students. 

But Merle was a legendary trouble maker that terrorized everyone in his path, needless to say, he wasn’t missed when he stopped attending class in order to help keep food on the table by working at Dale’s Auto Shop and Herschel’s Diner. And the absence of a second Dixon was hardly lamented, meaning nobody ever bothered to inquire about little Daryl’s truancy. But Merle would homeschool Daryl to the best of his ability, which wasn’t very well given he could hardly read and had hardly attended public school either. But Daryl knew that his brother was trying and would often pretend to understand things just to make Merle feel that his efforts were not in vain. 

But it was winter and that meant little time for luxuries such as education. Their home was little more than a diminutive structure formed by plywood, sheets of tin and crumbling brick that was destroyed in the fire that killed their mother last year. That meant no heat without firewood for the cast-iron wood-stove that was hungrier than anything that small had the right to be.

“Pa, I’m tired.” Daryl told his father who walked several paces ahead of him, leaving giant footprints in the snow. 

“Quit y’r bitchin’ n’ hurry up or th’ coyotes ‘ll get ya!” The hulk sized man snarled at his tiny son. 

“But it’s ‘th’ mi’ll o’ th’ night.” He tried not to sound weak, but he was freezing and exhausted from hunting with Merle all day and collecting firewood that was already gone.

“ _But it’s th’ mi’ll o’ th’ night!_ ” His Pa mimicked in a high pitched voice as he trudged forward into the woods. Daryl frowned and rolled his eyes, angry but not enough to piss off his old man any further; his bruises from last week were still purple and green and he had no interest in a fresh pair. 

Daryl looked up to the starry night sky and found himself spellbound by the brilliant silver moon that was so round and bright that he could make out all the craters that perforated its surface. He often dreamed of rocket ships and galaxies that stretched to infinity and celestial havens where he could ask questions without getting hit or scolded, a place where everyone saw as much magic and beauty as he did. He wondered if other life forms looked to the heavens the same as him and pondered the same things, curious about a planet like earth. 

He huffed out a large cloud of condensation and rubbed his tiny nose that was red and frozen, just like his tiny fingers that were adorned with skimpy, tattered blue gloves.  
He started and hurried through the glistening snow when he saw his Pa had left him behind and tried to walk in the large man’s tracks to keep his shoes dry. 

But he started to panic and his steps became sloppy, no longer paying attention to where his feet landed but chasing after his father’s tracks and wondering where he had gone so quickly. He stopped, panting, teary eyed and the icy air drug through his throat and lungs like shards of glass.

“P—Pa!” He cried into the trees. “Where are you?!” His tiny voice screeched as hysteria set in and he wrung his little hands together. “Pa!” He sobbed out when suddenly he was zapped by a spike of adrenaline. He gasped and whirled around at the rumble of a disembodied growl that rolled through the darkness. _Coyotes_ , he thought, fearfully. 

“He—He—Help!” He whimpered, his throat too seized up with anxiety to yell. The growl grew closer but he could not see the source; it was loud and deep like thunder and he thought for sure whatever it was going to lunge at any second. 

“Damn it, boy!” Will Dixon thundered and before Daryl could whip around with relief the old man's hand collided with his tiny, frozen face and sent him crumpling into the snow like a sack of bricks. “You scar’d away th’ game I was ‘bout ta shoot wit’ all y’r screamin’!” He scolded his sobbing son who held his arms up anticipating more blows. His face stung from the punch and his vision blurred. 

“Get up n’ quit y’r fuckin’ crying. God bless, how’d I get stuck wit’ such a damn cry baby!” The old man continued to berate Daryl until his attention was caught by a swift movement in his periphery. He hoisted his double barrel shot gun against his shoulder and fired, the boom echoing through Daryl’s already jostled skull and dulling his hearing. The creature squealed and ran off. “Got ‘em!” Will Dixon said, triumphantly and yanked Daryl up by the hood of his jacket before lunging him forward, where he floundered and fell face first into the snow. 

“My God you were a poin’less shot o’ cum, is wha’ you were.” He grumbled as he walked right past his five year old who was trying his hardest not to cry more now that his face was burning from the cold snow. “Yep, y’r Mama should’a swallowed y’r ass.” He laughed at his own jive as he climbed the embankment to find something that would wipe the smile clean off his malignant face.

“Wha’ is it Pa?” Daryl sniveled as he approached. 

“Shut up.” Will snapped and jogged down the other side of the hill where Daryl saw a man laying in the snow, bleeding, shot.

“Hey, mister!” Will Dixon hollered as he bounded over to the still body. “Hey, hey! Aw, shit!” He threw his hands up behind his head in panic, the man on the ground was clearly dead. Daryl padded over, hesitant and horrified by the sight before him. The dead man was laying in a crimson halo that slowly spread throughout the fluffy white down. He was slender and tall with brown curly hair and he had a few days growth of salt and pepper stubble, his skin as white as the snow. 

Will Dixon was squatted down beside the body when he turned to look at his son over his shoulder. 

“You see wha’ you did!” He accused Daryl. “Look at wha’ you did!” He yelled, making Daryl hysterical. The small boy was starting to hyperventilate as he was swallowed by the abyss of contingencies that was exaggerated by the ignorance and imagination of a fiver—year—old boy. 

“I’m sorry!” He squeaked, afraid his Pa would actually beat him to death this time. 

The hulking old man went to stand, pushing up off his knees when Daryl gasped and pointed to the man on the ground. Will Dixon shot his eyes down to the body to find that the man had opened his eyes. Daryl leapt back while his father sat, frozen in fear. 

The other man’s eyes looked as though he’d popped out his real ones and replaced them with shiny onyx black marbles, and worse, when he smiled like a spider who’d caught a fly in its web, he exposed long, vicious fangs. 

“Pa!” Daryl screamed before the creature on the ground shot up and wrapped its claw like fingers around Will Dixon’s head and latched on to his neck. The child could not move as he watched the creature slam his father between giant tree trunks until he was scaling the height of a towering oak, dragging the large body of Will Dixon with him as though the old man weighted nothing at all and they disappeared somewhere up into the canapé.

Daryl fell hard on his back, tripping over a root and scurrying under the protection of several fallen trees that overlapped, creating a fortress for him to hide in.  
The silence that followed was deafening and eery, only the desperate sharp breaths of the small child could be heard by the keen ears of predators. 

The minutes passed as Daryl peered out of his concealment when he heard the loud snapping of branches from high up followed by his fathers limp body slamming to the forest floor in a heap of crushed bones and bloodless meat. He clapped his trembling hands over his mouth to muffle a sob when the evil creature landed on the ground in a graceful crouch that shook the earth. The horrifying thing straighten and looked around with a nonchalant gaze. He wore a brown jacket lined with shearling and dark jeans; he almost looked… _human_. 

He swung from side to side, cracking his back before sauntering in Daryl’s direction and inhaling deeply, nostrils flaring as he picked up on the boy's scent. The creature slumped back dramatically like a man experiencing a standing orgasm. 

“ _Mm—mm—MM!_ ” He rubbed his belly like a starving man smelling steak. “Here kitty, kitty!” He called in his deep, gravely voice with a smirk. “Come out, come out where ever you are!” He sang as he glanced around and inhaled another deep whiff of Daryl’s aroma. “No? Guess I’ll just have sniff you out, won’t take me but a _second_!” He chuckled and flashed a sideways grin that revealed one long fang that was every bit as sharp as a hypodermic needle. He swaggered over, all hips, to where Daryl was quietly weeping in the fetal position beneath the fallen trees. “Gee, I wonder where he could be?” The man—like creature feigned ignorance for the sake of his own amusement. His obsidian eyes fell knowingly between the dead trees and instantly made eye contact with Daryl’s petrified blue spheres. “Oh, there you are.”

In an instant, faster than anything Daryl could have ever imagined, the monster swiped his hand and blasted the huge trunk into a million splinters that launched in every direction and revealed Daryl, who held his arms over his face and didn’t dare move. 

“I’m—I—s-s-s-sorry my Pa—sh—shot you!” The boy stammered as snot and tears soaked his face. 

Looking bored, the creature arched a brow and said, “Yeah, that was kind of annoying.” He acknowledged, indifferently. “But, I accept your apology, so I’m going to kill you quickly.” He smiled and reached down to grab Daryl’s head and snap his neck. 

“ _RICK_!” A woman’s voice scolded. Unfazed, the sadistic beast called Rick, rolled his creepy black eyes and turned around to address her. 

“Carol!” Rick gasped, sarcastically. 

“We don’t kill children!” She snapped and marched up to him. Her eyes were black, same as his, and her hands were like claws, just like his. 

“I’ll share him.” Rick bartered. He sniffed at the air and his nose scrunched up in disgust. “See, now he pissed himself, _Ew_.” He scoffed. The woman stared hard into his eyes and placed a talon onto his sternum. 

“Don’t make me kill you.” She warned. “We hunt the bad.” 

“Statistically he’ll be just like his old man.” Rick reasoned as annoyance set in. 

“What old man?” Carol challenged. “He gets the same chance as anyone one else, to grow up and decide who he’s going to be.” She lectured and Rick snarled his lip. “Leave him alone.” She warned again. Without another word, Rick leapt like a night demon and latched onto a tree and started scaling it with his claws.

“Rick!” Carol called after him. He stopped and looked down at her.

“What?” He snapped. 

“Can I trust you to leave him be?” She asked. Rick swung out the left side of his body while clinging onto the tree bark with his right. 

“I’m leaving, aren’t I?” He sassed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “ _Yes!_ ” He barked when she continued to glare at him from below. 

“Prove it.” She challenged. “Prove to me and Negan that you’re not a liability, as he said you were and I vouched for you instead of killing you like he said I should have.” She reminded him with a guilt trip. His eyes narrowed and his body went limp, allowing his claws to gouge out giant grooves along the length of the tree as he descended towards the ground with huge curls of wood collecting beneath his dragon—like talons. 

“How?” He asked, peevishly, shaking the shavings from under his nails and stomping over to her.

“Take him home.” She said, simply and crossed her arms. 

“Are you _crazy?_ ” He whirled around to look at Daryl, who was still and quiet as he tried to process what the hell was going on. 

“I can’t protect you forever Rick.” She told him. “Prove to me, prove to Negan that you can follow the rules.” Rick fell silent for a long moment and assessed the situation. 

“Take him home?” He asked, looking at Daryl now as trap rather than a meal. 

“Rick, I won’t have the blood of the innocent on my hands. Take him home and do not harm him or I will kill you myself, and I promise you you’d rather that than whatever Negan would do to you.” She told him quietly. 

“What if I can’t?” He asked, suddenly fearful. 

“You’re a young vampire, but you’re not new. You can’t hide behind me forever, sweet pea.” She said as she caressed his cheekbone with her claw. Rick nodded and swallowed hard, trying to ignore how the delicious scent of Daryl’s young blood made him ravenous. 

“Okay.” He complied and both of them stepped back from each other and started to morph into their human appearances once more. Their talons retreated and formed into normal hands and their fangs receded. When Rick turned to face Daryl his eyes were a piercing blue.

Daryl trembled as Carol approached and kneeled in front of him with a motherly expression. He wanted to scream but didn’t dare, he could hardly breath and he was so cold he thought his fingers and toes would fall off. 

“Hi, there,” She smiled as she slid out of her coat and handed it to him. He reached for it with hesitant hands before snatching it and pulling it tightly around himself. “Rick is going to take you home, you’ll be safe with him.” She told him softly. Daryl looked over her shoulder and Rick panicked, flashing the boy a horrifying monster smile, despite his best efforts. Daryl curled tighter into the coat like snail into its shell. 

“You killed my Pa.” He whispered, finding his voice for the first time. Carol curled her lips in over her teeth and nodded. 

“Yes,” She answered, simply. “He’ll never hurt you again.” She promised, and all of a sudden it occurred to Daryl that he didn’t morn his father at all, he was only scared for himself. He flinched when Carol reached over and caressed his bruised cheek. “He’ll never mark your pretty little face, ever again.” She whispered and offered him her hand, he hesitated for a moment before grabbing on and letting her pull him up. 

Even Carol had to admit, the boy smelled exceptionally good and she almost decided against letting Rick take him in fear that her friend would fail his test, but she knew it had to be done.  
She coaxed the frightened child forward until he stood right in front of the blood thirsty demon that he had watched kill his father. Daryl looked up at Rick’s blue, gem—like eyes with a morbid fascination forming in his childish heart. 

Rick grunted like an old grouch before turning and squatting down so that Daryl could climb onto his back. He stepped forward and grabbed Rick’s shoulder when the man reached back and grabbed his legs to hoist him up. Daryl surged with nervous energy and clung to the man’s back like a baby chimp as Rick stood up.

Then, like a rocket ship, Rick launched them up into the tree tops and shot straight into the midnight sky where the air was thin and painfully cold, but Daryl couldn’t focus on that because he was overwhelmed with what had just taken place. His heart pounded and his veins all expanded with blood flow, his eyes wide with dreamy enchantment as they sailed through the starry sky far above the snowy world below that shimmered in the sliver moon light. Everything looked perfect from up here, like the world was actually something beautiful to behold.  
Everything was peaceful now, he was untouchable and free, thanks to Rick and Carol. 

Daryl smiled so much that the muscles in his cheeks ached and he giggled out of pure joy and amazement as he subconsciously dug his little hands into Rick’s curls like someone would the mane of a horse. 

“This is so cool!” He sang gleefully and his voice echoed through the sky as they flew above a patch of clouds.

As the ecstatic child was perched on his back Rick stayed quiet, refusing to engage with it more than he already had. But he was also taken off guard by something; it was a warm and fuzzy sensation in his cold, dead chest that seemed to be kindled by Daryl’s childish awe and excitement. Rick had been a monster for nearly eighty years and that was all he had been to anyone. He was a beast, a blood demon, a monster, and that’s all he was to Daryl, until now. 

He was relieved when he sought out the boy's house…if you could call it that. Rick plummeted and Daryl squealed with a cocktail of fright and excitement.  
Rick’s feet touched the snow, light as a feather as he crouched into a graceful landing. Daryl slipped off his back. 

“You live in this dump?” Rick criticized and cringed. Daryl nodded and hung his little head, looking pitiful and deflated.

“We’re really poor.” The boy mumbled, looking down at his feet. Rick suddenly felt… _something_ … 

“Okay, you are home, goodbye.” He said, gruffly before turning his back on Daryl and readying himself for take off when he heard a soft snivel and quiet plea that made him feel…something…

“Yes?” Rick asked, monotone.

“I don’ have any clean cloths an’ I wet these ones w’n I was scared.” Daryl whined and shivered pathetically.  
Rick gritted his teeth and turned to face the little boy, again. 

“Tell your mother.” Rick told him. Daryl hung his head and more tears fell silently from his blue eyes and over his chapped cheeks. 

“She’s dead too.” Daryl whispered. Rick shook his head in disbelief as if he couldn’t imagine what else could possibly happen to complicate this situation.

“I’m cold.” Daryl hiccuped and his teeth chattered, making Rick want to rip his own face off. He squatted down to eye level with the child and placed his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands together. 

“What do you want from me, little boy?” He asked, coldly. Daryl shrugged, much to Rick’s annoyance. 

“Maybe, make th’ house warm an’ help me find dry pants…” Daryl suggested, his voice tiny and hopeless. Rick nodded with a glazed over expression before taking the boy's frozen hand into his own and telling him, or more pleading with him to understand.

“Daryl—that’s your name, right?” He asked and the boy nodded.

“Okay, I’m a _vampire_ …” He informed as though it would clear up any misconceptions with the boy.

“But y’r a nice one…” Daryl mumbled. At this point, Rick was a snowflake in hell. Cold, beautiful, and no match for the warmth that this strange child emanated that both thawed and irritated him at the same time. 

“Fine, whats the worst that could happen?” Rick chuckled manically before standing and pointing to the house for Daryl to lead the way. The little boy hurried onto the decrepit porch, looking grateful as he pushed the door open, leaving Rick standing in the frame.

“Wha’?” He asked, quietly. 

“You have to invite me in.” Rick told him. 

“Well, c’mon th’n, its cold out th’r an’ y’r lettin’ the heat out.” Daryl groused and waved his arm, signaling the vampire to enter. Rick stepped into the dubious abode that reeked of stale cigarettes and dirty vacuum bins. Suddenly, as Rick closed the door, his nostril flared and his throat caught fire. 

“Tha’s Merle.” Daryl informed when he noticed Rick glaring at the passed out teenager on the sofa. “Don’ eat ‘im please, I won’ have anybody left.” He whispered, and Rick damned him to hell for being so _fucking precious_. He growled low in his chest and tore his eyes away from Merle.

“Where’s your room?” Rick asked, snappishly. The boy started and lead his new vampire pal down a short hall and into a tiny bedroom with two beds. It looked like a bomb went off inside, Rick thought to himself. This was no place for a kid to grow up…not that he cared.

“It’s a mess, Merle was s’pose ta clean it, but you can’ tell him nothin’.” Daryl explained, scratching his little head of mop—like hair. Rick stared at him and frowned deeply. 

“Let’s get you changed and tucked in.” He said, sounding like he cared, though he definitely did not…

  
~~~**~~~

  
Daryl showered and Rick waited in the bathroom with him, as instructed. The boy was afraid of being in the bathroom alone because apparently there were things out there that frightened him more than the vampire who ate his Pa right before his eyes. That irked Rick in an irrational way. 

Afterwards, Daryl brushed his teeth and Rick was able to scrounge up some clean Batman underwear and a baggy t-shirt for him to sleep in. 

Rick stoked the wood stove and tossed in a few logs before making his way back into the tiny bedroom to say good night and goodbye, once and for all. But once he breached the doorway it was like being hit by an eighteen wheeler. Now that Daryl was clean and the stench of urine and fear were long gone his scent wafted into Rick’s senses like blossoming night jasmine. He felt his fangs tickle at the gums and his throat burned white hot with thirst. Instantly he lunged, clearing the twin bed and ripping the window open. He had to get out of there, he had to go, _now!_

“Y’r leavin’?” Daryl’s disheartened voice broke him from his frenzy, at least for a moment. 

“Uh—yeah…” He grumbled, knowing he must’ve looked like a total spaz. 

“Will ya be back?” He asked. Rick snorted, this kid was unbelievable. 

“You want me to come back?” Rick smirked.

“Well yeah, I ain’t got any other friends.” And there it was, the stake to Rick’s icy heart. He hung his head and ran his fingers through his curls, exasperated and betwixt. 

“I—I don’t have much for friends either.” He admitted. “Not sure I know how to be one myself.” He mumbled, mostly to himself. 

“Yeah ya do, y’r way nicer ta me than my Pa ever was.” Daryl told him, innocently. “Sides, tha’ lady you was wit’ said you killed ‘im so he wouldn’ hurt me no more.” He said, matter of fact. Rick groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. This poor kid's short life was so messed up that he had embraced one of the most feared creatures to roam the earth after watching it murder his father and he still thought Rick was _“nice”_ in comparison. Rick huffed out a heavy breath and wished he had a cigarette when he looked over at the five year old who was smirking at him.

“What?” He asked, grinning. 

“So, are you like’ Coun’ Dracula?” Daryl asked, still smirking and Rick chuckled. 

“Yeah, I guess.” 

“Can you turn into a bat?”

“No.”

“Do you sleep upside down?”

“Sometimes.”

“Do you sleep in coffins?”

“Sometimes.”

“Garlic?”

“No.”

“Stakes?”

“No.”

“Does the sun kill you?”

“Yes.”

“You don’ talk like Coun’ Dracula…”

“Sorry about that,” Rick answered the onslaught of questions, annoyed but also a little amused. “Listen, kid, the sun's gonna be coming up in a few hours. You should sleep and I gotta get home so I can sleep upside down and all that shit.” He gave Daryl a half smile and slid the window the rest of the way open. 

“Hey, Coun’…” Daryl addressed him with that silly smirk, but it faded after a moment and his eyes looked saddened. “I know you pro’lly won’ ever come back.” He mumbled quietly. “But I’ll never forget you.” He told his new friend. 

Rick swallowed and focused his thoughts the best he could and wondered vaguely if vampires could cry, because if they could it would be this kid's fault. 

“I’ll be around, kid.” Rick promised with a stiff nod and then he was gone, swift as lighting into the night, leaving Daryl alone and waving goodbye from his window. The boy smiled to himself and sucked up his tears as he closed the window and told himself, stubbornly, _he’ll be back._


	2. Rick's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merle hears about Negan and stubborn Daryl goes missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hate that it took me this long to update, but here it is! I hope you all find it worth your wait.
> 
> A BIG thank you to Jayj456 for being my Beta <3 Also, check out her story, Dismantle The Sun.

~~~~~~~{}~~~~~~~~

The sunshine was white and brilliant as it hung in the cloudless cobalt sky. It was as though the light was captured in trillions of microscopic ice prisms that were suspended in the cold winter air. 

The frozen lake behind the Dixon shack at the bottom of the sloped property was a mile wide and reflected the bright sunlight like a giant mirror. The snow glistened like it was dusted in tiny diamonds throughout the country side. 

Daryl stood with his little nose pressed against the rippled glass window, icy to his skin as he watched the jets of condensation from his nostrils streak the pain and vanish just in time for him to exhale another. Merle paced frantically behind him and puffed hard on his cigarette before he plopped down into a rickety old chair at the kitchen table and pounded his fist, making his little brother jump and twirl around to face his older brother. 

“Wha’?” He asked.

“Wha’ you mean, wha’?” Merle snapped. “Where’s Pa?” He asked for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. Daryl just shrugged, nervously. He was five years old, lying was not something he did very well aside from denying his own farts. But he was by no means a coconspirator to murder, not on purpose anyway.  
Strangely enough, Daryl didn’t think about his Pa much at all since last night. The only thing on his mind was the vampire named Rick. 

When Merle had asked what happened Daryl told him that they got separated and that he’d found his way back on his own by following the footprints. 

“Daryl, ‘e could be hurt!” Merle stressed and sucked on his cigarette until it burned down to the orange filer before he rubbed it out in the ashtray. 

Daryl suddenly remembered what the woman in the woods had told him, verbatim. _“He’ll never mark your pretty little face, ever again.”_ He would remember those words for the rest of his life whenever, if ever, he caught himself feeling guilty or sad about his Pa’s death. 

“He always hurts us.” Daryl mumbled, looking his brother directly into his blue eyes. “We ain’ never needed ‘im b’froe.” He continued, more clearly and scratched his thigh absentmindedly. Merle let out a shaky breath and motioned for his little brother to come closer, Daryl obeyed and was pulled up onto Merle’s lap and embraced in a tight hug.

“Y’r righ’, maybe that ol’ bastard finally did us a fav’r ’n left.” He spoke mostly to himself as his eyes focused on the linoleum floor that was missing chunks in its pale-yellow patterns that revealed old adhesive. 

“Nothin’s changed, we just don’ have ta be afraid anymore.” Daryl comforted.

“Yeah, but we gotta keep it a secret, anyone finds out, the cops’ll take you away fr’m me ’n send ya to a foster home.” Merle mumbled against Daryl’s hair, his breath thick with cigarette smoke and his eyes brimmed with worry as he rocked back and forth. 

“Ain’t no cops here, Merle.” Daryl giggled as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“A lotta things ‘re gonna be changin’ aroun’ here, ’n soon.” Merle continued. “Tha’ rich guy from Germany wan’s ta buy this shit hole town an’ start up the steel mill again.” He said, thoughtfully. “Tha’ means school an’ cops, an’ everythang.” He muttered. Daryl pushed off with his shoulder and looked at him quizzically for a long moment.

“Wha’ rich guy?” He asked as though he was offended by the prospect. 

“I dunno, some guy wit’ a funky name.” He shrugged. “They was talkin’ ‘bout ‘im at the diner the other day. Says he wan’s ta bring back Paxton’s former glory, ‘r some shit.” He rolled his eyes and shook his head as he stood, sliding Daryl off his lap. 

“Wha’ will we do?” Daryl asked, nervously. 

“Nothin’. No one gives a damn ‘bout us anyway, we jus’ keep our heads down.” Merle instructed. “Maybe it’ll be f’r th’ best.” He pondered. “I migh’ be eighteen by th’n an’ they can’ take you away from me, ’n you could go to a real school…” Merle sounded excited and regretful all at once. He would be eighteen in two years; a lot can happen in two years.

“I’ma go ta work, might go huntin’ after ta see if I can get us some dinner.” He announced, forcefully calm; like he was in control. But Daryl was hardly fooled as he bit his little thumb and scratched his butt. 

Merle hung his head that was now shaved because his Pa had ripped a chunk of hair out a few days previous when he tried to escape the mean man’s fists. He didn’t know what he was going to do, he could hardly read or count on his fingers…what the fuck was he going to do? Daryl was tough, he didn’t need to be babied; but he was still a small child that couldn’t take care of himself and Merle knew in that moment that his baby brother was his only priority. 

He watched Daryl’s tiny figure that was wracked with anxiety as he scratched areas that didn’t itch and bit at his torn-up thumb nail and hid his eyes behind his shaggy hair. 

“ _Hey!_ ” Merle scolded, half-heartedly making Daryl snap out of his daze. “C’mere, c’mon,” he squatted down to his little brother’s level as the fiver year old approached him. “Get y’r damn hair outta y’r eyes, you aint got nothin’ ta hide from.” Merle told him, his voice comforting and husky. “An’ stop chewin’ y’r nails ’n shit, it makes ya look weak, an’ ya aint weak.” He said, pushing the stringy hair from Daryl’s face and tucking it behind his ears. “Y’r tough as nails, toughest li’l kid I know. I’m tough, an’ we don’ need no damn body, got it?” Merle lectured and felt a swell of pride when Daryl smiled and shook his head in understanding. “We are some bad mother fuckers, right?” Merle chuckled.

“Yeah, we bad,” Daryl agreed in his small voice and smiled. 

“Don’ you f’rget it.” Merle added, more serious. “Now, I gotta work, bu’ it’s a short shift, can I trus’ ya not ta burn the house down ’n shit?” 

“I’ma play outside, mos’ly.” Daryl told him.

“Nah, ya stay inside, its cold ou’there an’ ya need new gloves…I’ll buy ya some on my way back from th’ diner, maybe Dale will trade me a pair f’r some pheasant.” He nodded to himself, deciding that that was exactly what he would do. 

“Ok, I’ll jus’ work on my readin’ ’n stuff till ya get home.” Daryl told him. 

“Good, call th’ diner if anythin’” He instructed and pushed off his knees and left out the kitchen side door that let in a chilling blast of winter air before he snapped it shut behind him. Daryl padded over to the window and saw his brother climb into the 50s model pick—up truck. It started with a mighty roar before it backed out and disappeared down the narrow driveway and dissipated into the skeletal winter trees. 

In that moment Daryl decided that he would spend the rest of the day trying to figure out where Rick was. He knew that the vampire had told him that the sunlight would kill him, which meant he was definitely not outside at the moment given the blinding intensity of the sun. But it was starting to slip behind the mountains, now and Daryl had every intention of going back out there and coaxing his friend of night out of the darkness.

  
~~{ }~~

Merle sprinted from his orange truck and into the diner, his cigarette between his chattering teeth as he hugged himself in a feeble attempt to keep warm. Snow had been tracked in the door and saturated the entrance where it was starting to melt. 

“Hey! Someone needs ta mop this shit up before someone breaks a damn leg!” He groused at the staff behind the counter. 

“Don’t be gettin’ on us Little Papa, we’ve all been takin’ turns moppin’ that up all day, it’s your turn.” Petagae said, she was a tall slender black woman from Jamaica who earned the nickname, Lion Tamer. She hired Merle against everyone’s advice and managed to keep him in line since the beginning of last summer. “And put that cigarette out before you clock in!” She yelled behind him as he marched down the hall towards the broom closet. 

“Hey Rough Neck, you in a bad mood?” Lucie asked, a pretty red head waitress that loved to get Merle in compromising positions.

“Yeah, I’m ina bad mood!” He said, pulling the mop bucket from the closet. “So cold out there I got frost bite on my _dick_.” He complained, making Lucie giggle.

“Oh no, we can’t have that.” She said, biting her lip, flirtatiously. “How about I give it a nice warm kiss.” She suggested with a wink. Merle balked and looked around nervously. 

“ _Here?_ ” He asked, he couldn’t believe the balls on this girl. 

“Just real quick…” She promised. Merle took another quick look around the diner. The customers were engrossed in conversation or their food and the staff was all in the kitchen or behind the bar.

“Fine, jus’ the head though.” He said, his heart was in his throat and his guts squirmed as he turned his back to the floor and pulled his fly down and dug his hand in, only pulling out his pretty, fat penis head that was dusty rose in color and shaped perfectly like a bell. “ _Go on_ …” He urged and watched Lucie casually dive down to suck the pink spongy glands into her warm mouth. She coated it with her tongue and dipped it into the tiny hole before she pulled off with an audible, ‘pop’ and stood up and walked away like nothing.  
He tucked himself away and chuckled, knowing that he was going to be all riled up now until after their shift when he could take her back home. 

Merle mopped and shoveled out the walkway a little more to try and lessen the amount of snow the customers were dragging in before he went back in to wait his tables. The heat inside the diner instantly made his blood crackle and his veins burn with circulation. 

“Hey there, Mr. Horvath!” Merle greeted as his favorite customer sat at the bar and ordered his usual black coffee. 

“Good afternoon, young man!” Dale said, happily. “How’s little Daryl?” He asked, per usual. 

“Actually, I was meanin’ ta talk to you about him.” Merle said, pouring the coffee. 

“What is it?”

“Well, he needs him some new gloves and I was hopin’ I could trade you a pheasant for a pair.” Merle said, hopefully. 

“Now wait a minute, you’re sellin’ yourself kinda short there, don’t you think?” Dale told him. 

“Uh, I don’t know, I guess…” Merle said, his brows knitted together. 

“Well, you should always know what you’re offerin’ someone, that way no one takes you for a ride.” Dale lectured. “I’d say pheasant cost damn near sixty dollars for a whole one.” He said, around the rim of his coffee mug. “So, I’ll tell you what, those gloves are only worth four bucks, but I’ll trade you sixty in merchandise. Keep that little one warm and get somethin’ for _yourself_ too.” He said before downing the rest of his coffee. 

“Dale, I…thank you so much!” Merle said, loud enough for everyone in the diner to hear. Sixty dollars to the Dixon’s may as well have been a million. 

“Now, now, it’s what any decent person would do, no need to thank me.” Dale insisted, politely. 

“Daryl’s gonna be so excited, you have no idea!” Merle went on as he poured another cup for Dale. 

“But I’m serious Merle, take care of _yourself_ too. I won’t let you walk outta my store without a new coat, at least.” He told Merle, sternly. 

“Yes sir, I appreciate it.” Merle said, smiling wide when the order bell chimed. He hurried to the window and grabbed two plates of biscuits and gravy with a side of sausage links. He placed them down in front of Joe and Ed, Merle didn’t like them much. 

“How’s y’r pa, Merle?” Ed asked. 

“Dead, I hope.” Merle said, apathetically. 

“Damn, that’s fucked up.” Joe chuckled. 

“Well, he’s a fucked-up guy, and I dunno where ‘es at.” Merle told them, peevishly. 

“The boy clearly don’t wanna talk about his daddy! No leave him be!” Petagae said in her Jamaican accent. The men laughed like a couple of idiots and started shoveling their food into their ugly fat faces before Ed spoke again.

“So, Peta, what do you think about this Nega cat buyin’ up the town?” He asked. 

“ _Hm!_ I ain’t worried, not like this place could get any worse. I say, bring on the progress!” She said, confidently.

“If you hate it here so bad, why don’t you leave?” Joe asked.

“Because, like the rest of _you_ miserable fuckers, I got no money and no-where to go.” She told them, grabbing their plates and handing them to Lucie behind the window. 

“Yeah, well along with progress comes regulations and codes and all that other city shit.” Toby, from the other side of the bar chimed in. 

“I hear their wanting to open up an army base just east of here.” Denise, the town’s only doctor said as she took a seat at the bar. 

“Army base?” Merle mumbled, to himself. 

“Yup! That means money, economy, jobs, a proper school system.” She said, clearly excited. “And maybe I won’t have to be the only damn doctor who has to remind you assholes to go get your damn _flu shots!_ ” She added, addressing the entire bar.

“I’ll bring Daryl in tomorrow.” Merle told her.

“You too, _please_ , it’s free.” She pleaded. Merle nodded in agreement as he poured her coffee. 

“So, you think this Negan guy might be a good thing?” He asked her.

“Can’t get any worse.” Petagae reiterated.

 

~~{}~~

 

Merles truck had horrible suspension, which normally didn’t bother him any except for times like this. Lucie was hunched over the bench seat slurping on his cock and trying not to bite it off whenever they hit a pot hole. 

_WHAM!_

“ _Oh fuck!_ ” He shouted, when the whole truck jarred from hitting a large rock in the road. “Ok, enough, wait till we get to my place!” He snapped, angrily. Lucie sat up, laughing at him and how cute he was when he was angry. 

“Fine, but you have to eat me out when we get there.” She told him. 

“Girl, you know I’d live down there if I could.” He smiled and winked. 

“Good, cause I’m not on the pill right now, so we’re strictly oral.” She said, seriously. 

“I got condoms…”

“Not gonna risk it.”

“Only oral?” Merle asked. “You gonna lick my asshole? I heard that shit feels real good.” He hinted, with high hopes. Lucie threw her head back and laughed.

“Not on your life!”

“Anal?” He laughed at his own suggestion. Lucie gave him a mischievous grin.

“ _Big_ maybe, but you have to let me pop a finger in, just one!” 

“Aw, c’mon!” He growled. 

“Please…”

“Fine. But only one!” He agreed.

The old orange Chevy grumbled into the snow-covered driveway, it was twilight. The headlights swept over the front of the dilapidated house. 

“Its dark…” Merle said, he instantly noticed that there were no lights on in the house. 

“Maybe he’s sleeping…” Lucie suggested. 

“It’s 6:00, I can barely get ‘im to bed b’fore midnight, maybe he’s jus’ watchin’ tv.” He thought, mostly to himself. He climbed out of the truck and grabbed the bag of winter clothes from Dale’s out of the bed in the back. 

“Daryl!” Merle called once inside the house, Lucie echoed him. But there was no answer, no movement. Merle’s nervous system spiked. “Daryl, answer me, _now!_ ” He yelled through the house and started checking the rooms. 

“Merle, come here, he left a note on the fridge!” Lucie called from the kitchen. Merle bounded down the hall and into the tiny kitchen. On the refrigerator made from ABC magnets was the miss spelled message from Daryl. 

_'WENT TU PLA WIF RIC'_

“Who the fuck is Rick?” Merle yelled. “Where’s my baby brother?” He started pacing and pulling his hair. “Shit, shit, mother fucker!” He shouted. 

“Ok, we can’t panic!” Lucie said, and took him by the shoulders. “He’s not far.”

“But who—the— _fuck_ —is _Rick?!_ ” Merle barked at her. “There’s no Rick here! Do you know a Rick?”

“No…” She answered honestly, her own eyes becoming frantic. 

“What if he was kidnapped, Lucie?” He asked, his voice small and fearful. 

“Um, ok, let me make some phone calls and get everyone looking for him.” She said, letting him go and pulling out an old flip phone. Merle was feeling dizzy, he thought he might vomit or shit his pants. Daryl was gone because he left him all alone, a defenseless five year old boy. Now he’s gone.

 

~~{}~~

 

Daryl took giant steps through the high snow, the sound of it crunching beneath his tiny feet was the only sound to be heard within the muffled winter forest. He’d been walking for a very long time and still no sign of Rick. 

“Count!” Daryl called into the twilight woods. He stood there for a long while, listening for movement. “C’mon Count…” He whispered, feeling defeated. He didn’t even know where he was or how to get back, not without Rick. 

_WHOOSH!_

Daryl whipped around, but there was nothing. 

“Hello?” He called, nervously. Nothing… “Rick, is that you?” He spun around, getting antsy. The woods were nearing complete darkness. His teeth chattered and his feet felt like they were going to fall off. He pulled his beanie down on his head a little tighter and started to feel a knot in his chest that was going to overflow any second. 

“Where are you?” He whimpered, tears brimming his eyes as he turned back around. _“AAAAAGGHHHH!!!”_

“Boo!”

“ _Rick!_ ” Daryl sang, joyously. Rick hung upside down from a sycamore tree. “I’ve been looking for you!”

“No kidding, you’ve stirred up every vampire this side of the Mississippi.” Rick said, sternly. “You really shouldn’t be out here, Daryl.”

“But I wanted to see you again. Merle’s gonna get me new mittens without holes in them and we can build a snowman and an igloo, even!” He told the vampire. Rick rolled his eyes before grabbing Daryl into a vice like grip and swung upright into the tree. Daryl squealed like a baby pig until Rick set him down on the branch beside him.

“Whoa!” Daryl giggled. 

“Don’t let go of my hand.” Rick instructed. Daryl nodded, squeezing the vampires hand as tight as he could. And with no further warning Daryl felt his stomach drop as he was launched up into the icy air and lifted towards the stars. And as if his adrenaline wasn’t high enough, Rick flung him up by his arm, letting go, Daryl sailed several hundred feet closer to the moon, laughing and screeching. The moment he started to descend he landed on Rick’s back and dug his fingers into his friends thick, curly hair. 

“Let go!” Rick hollered over his shoulder. Daryl did and was shocked when Rick rocketed and left him suspended in the air for a moment before he started to free fall. He screamed and felt his stomach launch into his throat when he started to flip and twirl in the air, never losing sight of Rick, who whooshed around him protectively. Daryl knew he should be scared, but he wasn’t, for he was sure that he would not hit the ground. That he would be swooped up into the strong, safe arms of his night demon. 

The freezing air whipped his chapped face and made his green eyes water as the earth grew nearer, sparkling, quilted white down, as far as the eye could see. And just as fear spiked in his veins, he was embraced from behind and held tight to Rick’s chest. 

Daryl smiled and giggled to himself, he didn’t know where he was going and it didn’t matter, not anymore. In the distance, he saw the old steel mill, like a giant crouching monster just outside of town. 

“Where are we going?” Daryl asked, once they started to descend to the snowy ground. 

“To my favorite place.” Rick said, crouching to the earth. He set Daryl down and stretched out his arms in a _‘ta da!’_ fashion. 

“The park?” Daryl asked, skeptically. 

“I love to swing.” Rick said, with an almost happy face. “Do you?”

“Um, yeah…” Daryl said, he felt confused. “Can we build a snowman first?” He asked, hopefully. 

“Of course, no one will bother us here.” Rick told him, confidently. “But first…” He said, squatting down to Daryl’s level. He reached into the pocked of his brown jacket and pulled out a pair of brand new red gloves. “Here, put these on.” He handed them to Daryl with a meek smile. 

Daryl took them without breaking eye contact. It was the nicest thing someone had done for him in a long time.

“Thank you, Count.”

“You’re very welcome.” Rick said, with a nod.

One snowman turned into three. Rocks for eyes and mouth and pinecones for noses. Daryl tried for an igloo but Rick wasn’t having it.

“Can we swing _now?_ ” Rick asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” Daryl huffed, plopping down on a cold rubber swing. “Why do you like it so much?” He asked.

“It’s one of the few memories I have from when I was your age.” He explained, simply. 

“But now you can _fly!_ ” Daryl sang, with his arms up. 

“Yeah, but we can both swing…” Rick said, kicking off. Daryl smiled and started pumping away at the freezing chains.  
They both swung as high as they could, butterflies in their stomachs that made them laugh each time they dropped. 

“Catch me!” Daryl screeched, and let go. He flung off and Rick was right behind him, swooping him up just before he hit the ground. Daryl giggled and fixed his beanie. They sat down in the snow and Daryl could not take his eyes off his vampire. Upon closer observation, he could see that Rick did not look like other people, even in his human state. His porcelain skin was too flawless and his eyes too gem like. He was cold and brilliant like a white marble statue. Rick tilted his head as he noticed the child’s close observation of his face. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asked, quietly. 

“Jus’ happy ya found me out there.” Daryl shrugged with a smirk. 

“Me too…you have to promise me you won’t go out there anymore Daryl. It’s more dangerous than you know and it’s getting worse.” He said, seriously. 

“But where will I find you?” Daryl asked. Rick swallowed hard and shook his head, his expression somber. 

“You won’t.” He said. Daryl’s heart fell. 

“But, why?” He asked, and his voice was very small. 

“Because I’m not good for you.” Rick explained, remaining stoic. 

“ _I don’t care!_ ” Daryl shouted. “You’re my best friend, you can’t leave!”

“Daryl, I know you’re upset, but it was wrong of me to take you out tonight. I am nothing more than a threat to your safety.” Rick told him. 

“ _Liar_ , y’r just like everyone else.” Daryl said, standing up and dusting the snow off his pants. “I don’t need you either.” He whispered, tearfully. Rick jumped and though his mouth was open, nothing came out. Suddenly there was a hive of activity moving about the town. People were yelling Daryl’s name and cars were combing the streets at low speeds. Shit. 

“Just go away.” Daryl told him, wiping his runny nose and walking towards the people calling his name. He turned one last time to look at Rick, but the vampire was already gone, swallowed by the darkness. He started to cry when he heard Merle’s voice running towards him sounding both panicked and relieved.

 

  
~~{}~~

 

Rick stood in the shadows of the tree and watch Daryl get swooped up by his older brother who was accompanied by a pretty red head girl. He felt tight in his granite chest, like his dead heart would crack with the sound of a splitting glacier. 

He felt a firm hand grip his left shoulder, but he did not look because he already knew who it was by the sound of the thick leather glove stretching over the knuckles as it gripped his flesh. 

“So…” Negan’s voice growled in his ear. “That must be him.” He whispered, nodding his chin in Daryl’s direction. “ _The boy who played with vampires_.”

“Yes,” Rick confirmed, quietly. 

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Negan asked, dubiously. Rick squeezed his eyes shut and composed himself.

“Spare him, _please_.” He begged, none too proudly. Negan grabbed his chin and forced Rick to look him in his coppery eyes. 

“Show me…” He demanded, calmly. Rick swallowed thickly and leaned to press his lips to Negan’s, receiving a sharp nip that drew blood. 

“I see…” Negan said, his eyes hard and serious. He licked his lips clean. 

“I’ll do anything.” Rick offered.

“You’ll do _nothing_.” Negan snarled. “You will _never_ see him again, or I’ll tear his throat out and make you eat it.” 

“I understand.” Rick promised. 

“I knew you would.” Negan said, frowning. “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please comment with feedback or any ideas you might like to see play out in this story. The next chapter we're going to leap forward and watch baby Daryl grow up a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking about leaving this a one shot. But who knows :)


End file.
